We all cope differently, and that is ok.

Believe it or not, not everyone is like me, thank G‑d. If they were, the world would be full of impulsive, clumsy control freaks who speak their mind a little too often. Every patient, caregiver and loved one comes from a different place, each with their own way of coping with the ridiculously difficult task of carrying on through the pain of either going through or watching someone go through PSP, or any other terminal condition.

This makes a one‑size‑fits‑all approach impossible. Some people share, some withdraw. Some protect loved ones by being open, others by being closed. Some need company, others need space. The most complicated thing is that sometimes we want a bit of everything, often changing between coping methods.

I have learned and am still learning that there is no right answer. What works for one person may not work for another, even within the same family. By the time we face PSP or another condition, we are far along in life and already have a fairly set way of being, which is hard, if not near impossible, to change.

That is one of the biggest challenges of this process, and the only three answers I have found are empathy, playing to your strengths, and acceptance.

Empathy means being aware of these differences and trying to be sensitive to them. If one of my family members really needs space, I need to try to give it, and I hope they understand my needs in return.

Playing to your strengths means leaning into what helps you stay resilient. You would never ask a bowler in cricket or a pitcher in baseball to switch over to be a batter. You have to play with your strongest suit, the approach that gives you the best chance of maintaining strength and attitude throughout the journey.

Sometimes, empathy and playing to your strengths clash. I face this challenge in blogging. Not all of my friends and family want to be confronted with every blog I write. I have decided to play to my strengths and blog how I feel and cope with the journey, knowing I may not make it easy for some. I do empathize with this view and at times I am super sensitive to it, and people have the option not to read what I write. But sometimes there is a clash and you have to make a tough judgment call.

Playing to your strengths and adding empathy, so you acknowledge and try to accommodate others with different personality types, is my 2 a.m. view of how best to get through this. Lastly, I have to say this because it is obvious but easy to forget: it is horrible. It is hard. However much I truly believe G‑d has put me in this challenge to deal with it and grow, I cannot and do not have to like it.

Measuring success by regular standards is simply not possible. Suffering is hard. I have said to those close to me that it is not going to be normal, and no amount of therapy or other aids will make it so. It is tough, and our focus is resilience and doing the best we can under the circumstances. And that is ok.

So this is a long way of saying that I hope no one thinks there is a simple PSP‑101 way of coping with a disease like this. We have to recognize who we are, be empathetic to those around us, and play our best hands. I believe it is crucial to stay as positive as possible and to look toward the words of Viktor Frankl, who lived through three concentration camps including Auschwitz and said:

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”